Support
I don't own them – ok I don't own HIM. Most of the rest are mine, unless Marvel owns them, I promise.
This is very definitely AU. This is a one shot - it may expand I don't know but for now it's finished. I know it's a common theme with me, but this needed some more exploration. I apologize if anyone thinks it's been done to death, but hey, he just lends himself to a certain type of strong, willful, determined woman, what can I say. As happened with other one shots - it may get more work depending on feedback, or I may let it die...hint hint.
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She was sitting in her office, coffee and her temper cooling at about the same rate. Three months. He was three months late. She'd had to take extra jobs, work extra over time to make up for it, to make sure Natalie didn't know her dad was a deadbeat. She stared at the phone, willing the bastard to call.
The phone was silent. She picked it up and dialed the accountant's number. Still disconnected; she dialed his cell, and hesitated over the send button. She really didn't want to talk to him, but Nat was asking why they were eating so much mac and cheese. Six hundred dollars a month wasn't a lot, but it took care of the little things, like groceries, and doctor's co pays, and dental retainer to hide her developing fangs. She was making the ends meet, but there were definite corners being cut to do it.
She glared at the phone, and hit the button. She put it to her ear and listened. Ring. She breathed during each pause; she almost hoped he wouldn't pick up. Ring. He was such an ass. If she hadn't been so damned STUPID she wouldn't be in this situation, having to deal with him. Ring. Not that Nat was a mistake, she wasn't, and the whole situation was just stupid. Ring.
"You've reached the phone of Victor Creed. Leave a message at the tone and I will get back to you as soon as I can." He didn't SOUND like the highest paid assassin in the world, not on the phone.
"It's Dana. Three months, Victor. You are three months behind. I want a check and I want it here NOW!" She hissed into the phone. She really shouldn't be trying to handle this at work; she didn't want the lieutenant walking in while she was dealing with personal issues. She clicked the phone shut and put it back into her pocket.
She opened the file on her desk and started trying to make sense of the uniformed officers' reports. She had an interview with one of the witnesses this afternoon and needed to make sure she had all the facts. Thirty-three year old male; three gunshot wounds to the chest; eye witness claimed to see a strange looking figure leave the scene. She was getting more and more reports of "strange looking figures" and didn't like it. She pulled out her pocket notebook and started making notes of relevant information.
Her phone vibrated in her pocket. She almost didn't answer it, but thought it might be Nat.
"Wallis." She said simply.
"Three months? What the fuck is Frank doing?" He snarled in her ear.
"I don't know – I don't care, I'm a month late on the dental payments because YOU can't be bothered to keep track of your accountant. Get me the money Victor." She snapped.
"I told you – I'll take care of it, what do you owe the dentist?"
"Just pay what the court said to pay – I don't want ANYTHING else from you."
"Dana." He growled.
"I'm not in the mood Victor. I'm in the middle of a case."
"You're always in the middle of a case. I'm not in town. Let me find out what's going on, and I'll have Frank drop a check by your office."
"I don't care where you are; just take care of your responsibilities." She hissed. "I have to go."
"I'll call ya." He purred into the phone.
"Don't bother – just get me that check." She ground out and slammed the phone shut. She'd been given a generous paternity settlement, the child support, and he got no visitation, which was fine with her. She didn't want him anywhere near her daughter; Nat was too much like him as it was. She hoped he'd keep his word – and send the accountant. Seeing him always made her angry, and it was never good to be angry around Victor Creed.
She went back to the file.
"Hey – you ready." Her partner, Avery, stuck his head in the door.
"Yeah, just one sec." She jotted down another note, and closed the file and slipped it into the drawer of her desk.
"You okay – you're looking a little ragged." He said as they walked to the car.
"Just a little strapped for cash – dentist hounding me about payments, and the dick is late on support." They didn't know WHO the dick was, and she kept it that way.
"Want me to go lean on him?"
"No. I'm taking care of it." She said.
"Your ex is a real piece of work." Avery said.
"You have no idea." She replied, and flipped open the notebook to go over her notes again.
"Leslie wants you and Nat to come to the house this weekend, kids can play and we can dig out the cards, maybe play some poker." Avery said. He had been a good partner these last three years – and she liked his wife. His daughter Gwen and Nat were good friends.
"Sure. I don't have any plans." She smiled. A weekend to relax – especially if he caught up what he was supposed to – was just what the doctor ordered.
Her phone started vibrating in her pocket. She pulled it out and groaned. It was Victor again.
"WHAT! I'm in the middle of something." She snapped.
"Frank can't drop the check by." He growled.
"Why?"
"He's dead."
"WHAT!?"
"Heart attack. I've been out of the country so I didn't know. I'll get it taken care of."
"You do that."
"You really are a heartless bitch sometimes." He snarled at her.
"Well it beats what you are – just get me that money, I don't care how." She said sharply.
"I'll need some time."
"I don't HAVE time."
"Alright – I'll do what I can, SHIT! I don't need this crap, you aren't the only one in the middle of something."
"Drop it – trust me, whoever you are doing will thank you." Avery snorted. She let him think what he wanted.
"You bitch…"
"Bastard. There all done. GET ME THAT CHECK!" She snapped the phone closed again.
"He can't be THAT bad…you got Nat out of the deal." Avery laughed.
"Yes he can…" She muttered. Avery just laughed again.
"Then we NEED to get you laid."
"Shut up and drive." She snapped at her partner.
XXXXXXXX
"Three months, you didn't call me for three months Marjorie?" He snapped.
"Frank didn't have your number where I could find it, Victor. Believe me I looked." The older woman said.
"Tell me my records are in order."
"They are."
"Then WHY is my child support check three months over due?"
"Frank always handled that transaction personally, a hand written check, and a hand written account book. He always hid them, and I haven't been able to find them. He said you didn't want it traced back to your corporate accounts."
"He was right, I don't. Who's taking over my account?"
"David Berm, he's new in the office."
"Put me through to him, and LOOK for those books." He snapped. There was a click on the phone, then.
"Berm."
"Victor Creed, I understand you inherited my account." He said, trying not to bite the new guy's head off - yet.
"Ahh, yes. Mr. Creed. Your accounts are in order, I assure you."
"That's not what my daughter's mother says. She hasn't gotten her support check since Frank died." He said softly. He didn't want to frighten the kid, not yet. Frank had handled his affairs for years.
"I don't show any record of a support check from any of your accounts, Mr. Creed. I have it all right here on the computer in front of me."
"I have an account – an old fashioned one, not on the computer. She's paid out of that one. Hand kept books, hand checks." He said.
"I haven't seen anything like that."
"I don't want my support tied to my corporate accounts. I don't want people knowing she's my kid." He said simply.
"I am certain we can work something out. How much are we talking?"
"Eighteen hundred dollars."
"That's not that much, I can do a petty cash expenditure for that amount, and you can pay her cash this time, until we find the other account book." David said. He could hear him punching keys.
"She won't accept cash – it has to be a check, by court order." He said.
"Oh…can it be a cashier's check, or something, not made out to support?"
"No."
"And she needs it?"
"Yesterday."
"Oh. Can I put you on hold?"
"Sure." He looked down at the body at his feet. He HATED being put on hold while he was trying to work. He kicked the plastic sheet over the body. All the blood was contained within it, so clean up wouldn't be hard. It was a nice kill, not as nice as some – but a nice kill.
"We found it; I'll have that check out to her in this afternoon's mail."
"No, it has to be hand delivered – to her office." He said.
"Where is her office?"
"I don't know the address – downtown, police headquarters." He said.
"Oh."
"Detective Dana Wallis."
"Oh. Got it. We'll get it to her today."
"Thank you, I need to get back to work." He snapped the phone shut. He was going to have to break in a new accountant, damn it; first Dana – now this.
He'd been surprised to see her number on the screen when she'd called. It had been three years since the last time she'd called. Then it was about the dentist and the retainer and him getting pissed because she was trying to hide what Nat was. He didn't know how to deal with her so he let it go to voice mail. He'd listened to her voice, let it flow over him. She didn't know how her voice affected him, even after all these years, and he wasn't going to let her know. He liked her angry – angry meant passion, and if he could get her alone passion meant great sex.
Of course that's what got him into this mess in the first place – great sex. She'd arrested him; had him in an interrogation room. He still wasn't sure how she caught him, he NEVER left anything behind. She denied being a mutant so there had to be something. It had been bugging him for nearly eleven years, and she wouldn't tell him.
Truth be told she wouldn't speak to him unless she had to. She must really hate him, or herself, or both for what happened. His attorney managed to get them to release him, but she wouldn't let it go. She was tenacious, like a terrier. She'd tracked him to his hotel room, with more questions – questions he refused to answer, but he'd had a few of his own.
He'd figured out quickly what her buttons were, and how to push them. It wasn't long before she'd slapped him, hard, and he'd let go with a grin. He'd pinned her to the wall, and kissed her, and might have left it there, but she kissed him back. She'd snuck out of his room the next morning, a little bruised and worse for wear, but - he'd thought – satisfied. He certainly had been.
He hadn't thought much more about it, sex was just sex after all - until the paternity suit a year later. He hadn't contested it – and was regretting some of that now. He'd like to see her, his cub. He looked down at the plastic wrapped body at his feet. This job was done; time to go home.
XXXXXXX
The check was on her desk when she got back. She heaved a sigh of relief; she'd be able to take care of things now. She pulled her file out of the desk, and made a few notes. It was almost end of shift, and this case could wait until tomorrow, Nat had a ballet recital this evening, and she didn't want to miss it.
She stopped by the bank and deposited the check, stopped by the dentist's office and paid the balance on the bill, and apologized for being late. Tonight, she and Nat were going out to dinner. She grinned, she hated counting on his money, and she could get by without it, but it made things nicer for her daughter, and he was her father, after all.
She pulled into the dance school parking lot. She waved at some of the other mothers there and walked in. She sat in the auditorium and waited. She felt a sudden chill, and looked around. Something was off. She just couldn't place it. Something had the hackles on the back of her neck stand up. She kept glancing around the room through the whole recital.
"MOMMY!" Nat came running up after; she had a huge bouquet of flowers in her hand. "THANK YOU!" She squealed.
"I didn't…where did you get those?"
"They were back stage. Here's the card." She handed her the slip of heavy paper.
NAT, BREAK A LEG! LOVE YOU, MOM
"Well – are…they are beautiful." She would get to the bottom of it later. Maybe her mother had taken care of it, because she usually took care of that kind of thing. "What do you want for dinner?"
"NOT Mac and cheese."
"Ok – how about Chinese."
"We can go OUT!" Nat jumped up and down. "PLEASE! PLEASE! PLEASE! PLEASE! "
"Alright – out it is." She grinned. Her hackles seemed to be settling down, so she just guided the hyper ten year old to the car. They drove to the restaurant, and Nat chattered about the recital and the girls and boys in her dance class. Dana just listened and enjoyed being with her daughter, and being able to relax.
They made it home in time for Nat to get her bath and get ready for school the next morning. Dana washed up the few dishes and called her mother to thank her for thinking of the flowers.
"I didn't send them, Dana." Her mother said. Dana's hackles started to rise again.
"The card said, NAT, BREAK A LEG! I LOVE YOU, MOM." She said.
"I didn't send them."
"Well who did?"
"Call the florist in the morning, if they were paid by credit card you can find out." Her mother said.
"I am planning on it." She had a few other tricks she could use too.
She went upstairs and tucked Nat into bed.
"Mom I really love the flowers." She said, looking at the bouquet in a vase on her dresser.
"They are beautiful." She said, and leaned down and kissed her on the forehead. Nat pulled her retainer out, the one that hid the fangs and grinned at her mother before putting it on the nightstand.
"Night Mom."
"Night Baby." She said as she clicked off the light. Nat didn't need a night light, never had, not with her father's eyes. Contact lenses were still a few years away, luckily very few people looked at her that closely, she was still just a kid.
She went back down stairs and finished straightening up the house. She turned on the news, just in time for the weather. She NEVER watched the headlines; she got enough of those at work. She locked up the front and back doors, and made sure the alarm was set.
She stuck her nose in to make sure Nat was asleep, before going into the bathroom and getting a shower. She always felt dirty when she had to talk to Victor. She stood under the hot water, and lathered up her luffa and scrubbed, she scrubbed until her skin was raw, until the hot water stung against the small cuts bleeding on her arms. She didn't know why it did this to her. She didn't regret it because it gave her Nat, she just felt like she was covered in filth any and every time she talked to him.
She climbed out of the shower and looked at her arms. She'd be wearing long sleeves to work tomorrow, to hide the scabs. She pulled on her bathrobe and let the damp terry cloth absorb the small amount of blood from her arms. Nat would never know. She thought her dad was a business man, who didn't have time for them, and Dana would rather have it that way. She didn't need to know the truth.
She opened the door to her bedroom and crossed the room in the dark. She pulled clean underwear and a t-shirt out of the drawer by feel and slipped the robe to the floor to dress for bed.
"DAMN!" She jumped and grabbed the robe.
"What are YOU doing here? You aren't supposed to be anywhere near us." She snarled – almost as well as he did.
"I wanted to make sure you got the check." He said.
"I thought you said you weren't in town?" She held the robe in front of her as she faced the chair he was sitting in. He reached over and turned on the light.
"That better. Get dressed. I own a jet, Dana, I flew in to take care of this mess."
"Fine, it's taken care of – now get out." She didn't want to look at him. She hadn't seen him in over ten years, not in person.
"I want to see her."
"It violates your settlement." She snapped.
"She's my daughter, I want to see her. You can't stop me, you know that." He stood up, and it took every bit of her training not to back down from him.
"She's asleep." She said.
"I know; I hear her breathing." He said softly. "She was good on stage tonight."
"You were there?"
"Who the hell do you think sent the flowers, I figured you'd forget. There's NOTHING about my daughter I don't know." He snarled. "Now I want to see her."
"She's down the hall, don't wake her up." She snapped.
"That's not what I mean and you know it."
"I'm not authorizing visitation."
"I'll take you back to court." He said simply.
"Somehow, that's just not your style." She snapped as she tried to pull her underwear on behind the robe. This wasn't the most dignified meeting she'd ever had.
"Drop the robe – it ain't like I ain't seen what you got." He said with a laugh. "Seen and sampled."
"Bastard." She said, but dropped the robe and tried to pull her clothes on with some shred of dignity.
"Nope, my parents were married." He said, glancing toward the door. She didn't like his implication.
"You are NOT getting visitation. I will pull everything I have on you into court, you'll be lucky if they don't lock you up and throw away the key."
"All pardoned – can't use any of it any more, Baby. I'm clean and clear." He said with a smirk.
"How'd you pull that off?"
He flashed a badge at her. "Federal Marshall, We're on the same side – for now."
"I'll believe that when I see something real." She said.
"Okay." He tossed some papers on the end of the bed, and walked back to his chair.
She picked them up…a presidential pardon, blanket for anything and everything he'd ever done, in his LIFE! A federal commission card and ID, his federal badge, with number, and – she'd be damned – business cards, Victor Creed, US Marshall, Denver Office.
"Who'd you screw to get that?"
"Myself – but don't worry about it, it won't touch Nat."
"Pardon me if I call and verify all of this."
"Go right ahead." He leaned back in the chair, and rested his head along the back, as if he were tired. She knew better. He had more stamina and endurance than fifty normal men. She called the office and read the numbers off, along with his name. She heard a sharp intake of breath from the night records clerk – but she started running them.
"My GOD, Dana – it checks out. His rap sheet is GONE – even his arrest from eleven years ago, and all the federal stuff checks out."
"Good enough." He snarled.
"Thanks." She hung up.
"This doesn't change a thing." She said.
"Oh yes it does. You don't have a damned thing on me, nothing you can make stick in court, so if I want to see my kid – I'll get it." He snarled.
"What do you really want?" She snapped. She forgot how fast he could move, he had her pinned to the wall in seconds.
"You." He whispered, his hands gripping her arms, claws scraping her already raw skin. He looked down and noticed.
"What's this?"
"Shower."
"Bullshit." He stepped back and pulled her arms into the light. The blood had smeared a bit from the robe, but was starting to dry.
"You don't shower like this every day." He said, "There'd be scars."
"No – only when I have to deal with you – now I need another shower." She said, and he flinched. He actually flinched.
"Don't do it again." He hissed.
"That's not for you to say." She pulled her arm back against his grip, the edges of his claws cutting into her skin.
"Dana." He whispered, pulling her against his chest. "Don't do it again." He leaned down and captured her mouth with his.
This was what got her in trouble in the first place – the man could kiss, damn him. She fought as long as she could, but she couldn't resist him for long. He had her pressed against the wall again, hands stroking her arms and down her sides, his lips grinding against hers, demanding she respond with everything she had – and she did. Her hands slipped from his and tangled in his hair, her tongue and lips demanded him, and she could feel herself slipping down that slippery slope, the one that ended with them in bed and him in their lives.
"We can't do this." She whispered, raggedly.
"Why not?" His hands were under her T-shirt, stroking her skin; his shirt was open with her hands pressed against his chest.
"Nat." She said simply.
"What does she have to do with this?" He said, leaning down to kiss her again.
"What if she walks in, how are we going to explain this?"
"Hi Nat, I'm your dad, go back to bed we'll talk in the morning." He said with a grin.
"That's exactly my point."
"She doesn't know about me?" Now he was getting angry.
"She knows your name, that you travel a lot, and don't always get support to us on time." She said coldly. "I wasn't telling her any more than that until she was older."
"Well – she's older, and I ain't leavin." He said simply.
"What?"
"I put in for a transfer to the federal office here, and they'll give me what I want, so you better tell her something, because I'm here – and I'm gonna stay."
"Not here you're not."
"Here – now, or here later, it'll be all the same. You are MINE – got it."
"I don't belong to anyone."
"Yes you do – when was the last time you got laid?"
"None of your business."
"Eleven years ago – and yes it is my business…you're raising my kid. I can even tell you the last time you used that damned vibrator in your drawer." He sneered.
"You sick…"
"No – protecting my investment."
"Investment?"
"Yeah…I invested my DNA in that kid in there, and I keep close tabs on both of you. So far – you're doing a great job - but you both belong to me."
"Go to HELL, Creed."
He pressed her back against the wall and she moaned. She could feel every bit of him, and he wasn't letting her have any quarter.
"I'm legal, I'm legit, and I have higher jurisdiction than you do, Officer Wallis."
"That's Detective." She snapped. He leaned down and brushed his lips against hers.
"Dana – let's not mince words, I can FUCK up your world – and you know it. You could really put a hurt on me and you know it, but either way, that little girl in there gets screwed. I'm asking you to consider – just consider the thought of her parents together."
"We'd kill each other."
"I don't know…killin' ya is the LAST thing on my mind right now." He grinned, and she turned her face away as he tried to capture her mouth again.
"Well, it's not the last thing on mine." She said.
"Let me change your mind." He said softly against her ear, his breath sending sharp shivers down her back.
"You want to change my mind. It's going to take more than a quick fuck to change my mind." She snarled. "This little change of heart is all sweet and endearing and everything, but if you think I'm letting you near my daughter, you are as crazy as I've always thought."
"What do I have to do…buy you flowers, sweep you off your feet?" He gave her a very knowing grin. "Last time, it didn't take much at all."
"That was eleven years ago, I'm not that person anymore Victor." She said.
"Couldn't prove it by me…still short tempered, still too easy to rile, and still hot for me."
"But I can say no – and mean it. Nat is too important to me. I won't do anything to hurt her."
"So, what do I have to do, what do I have to prove?" He pulled back, which surprised her.
"That you are serious – and in this for the long haul…stick around for one. Stay here, without up and running for six months. Then I'll CONSIDER visitation. And stay away from me. Getting me in bed isn't going to help you Victor."
"You don't get you – you and Nat, you're a package deal for me. I get one – I get you both. She's my kid, you're my woman, it's time YOU adjusted to that."
"Not in this century."
He just grinned and picked up his jacket from the back of the chair. "Go to bed, Dana, and no more of those showers, you might hurt yourself. I'm here – and I'm here to stay, and believe me you will see me every fucking day, count on it. Oh – and I'll be delivering my own checks from now on."
She groaned as he walked out the door, and she cursed as she heard him turn off the alarm before walking out the front door down stairs. She was going to change the code first thing in the morning. He was back, and she didn't know if she would be able to adjust.